Love, Reincarnated

CREATIVE NONFICTION by

Long before I knew of ghosts as apparitions, I understood them simply to be the presence of the deceased. In this way, I was raised with death, a silent death that lurked largely unmentioned in corners.More

Golden Calf

Golden Calf

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The humpback is still humping him, pumping like a perpetual piece of machinery, a motion picture on loop.More

Storms Lived Inside All Of Us

Storms Lived Inside All Of Us

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Cyrus gave me a reason to unleash my frustrations. My punches were questions. Why couldn’t I go to a private school? Why did my parents not have college degrees? Who was responsible for me sleeping through gunshots, huh? He tumbled to the ground. Before he got up, I had more questions for him. They possessed my reddening fists.More

The Outsized Leather Bag

The Outsized Leather Bag

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I watched him hanging there at the perimeter, like a pall at the edge of a dream. In time he became part of mine, just as much as she had been.More

Man Enough

Man Enough

CREATIVE NONFICTION by

When I think of model trans men, I think of those brave enough to share their stories on social media, brave enough to ignore the comments that say go kill yourself or you will always be a woman. I think of those proudly wearing pink, blue, and white, the colors of the trans flag, those who march in rallies, holding signs that say, “Protect Trans Kids,” those who use their preferred bathroom regardless of how their outsides appear to the rest of the world. I was never that brave.More

Scotch and a Cigarette

Scotch and a Cigarette

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A hundred years is as round a number as there is. Ninety-nine actually, if we’re keeping score, considering that the centennial of my birth comes next week. I have outlived all of my friends, both of my children, and my wife. Age is license for truth-telling. Loneliness is a malignant thing and I aim to bring its long run to a close.More

Therapy

Therapy

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What happens when I encounter my reflection and I’m alone is I look at my torus. She wants to have it grinded down, but I guess I kind of like it occasionally. I run my tongue over it like it’s a sack of rocks at the bottom of a stream, and all my thoughts melt away, just for a moment. Then I open my mouth, look at it, tap it with a fingernail.More

Darryl in No Man’s Land

Darryl in No Man’s Land

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One night, Julie left St. Virgil’s and instead of transferring, she walked off the L platform, crossed the river, and proceeded to get gin-drunk for three hours at the Hotel Fernandito bar until some guy who looked kind of like Dave Grohl came up and asked to buy her next drink.More

Six Miles From Earth

Six Miles From Earth

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He tells us about his amazing sex life non-stop but to me it sounds like the death of a ball turret gunner. I never say that to him. He tells Rabbi and I all about the things his wife does to him. The things she demands he do for her. It’s all he ever talks about. I just laugh. I know Casey’s old lady. I don’t think she’s nice-looking. I would never say that to him.More

Junk’s Son

Junk’s Son

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The basement flat they lived beneath his grandmother’s house was somewhere he was used to, accepted, even at times taking it for granted. But the garage was different. The garage was a sort of hell.More

TWO STORIES

TWO STORIES

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A country music star who writes sweet, tangy love songs is distant with his wife. He’s close with his dog. His wife wishes he’d write a love song about her. He sits down to write but the only thing that comes out is distance.More